Again?
by Spiffy Da WonderSheep
Summary: VIII, IX and X posted! Buffy's gone, and the Scoobies are falling apart. And Sunnydale is in grave danger... again. (see, it's a joke, heh heh... aw nevermind) If you give me feedback, I'll give you a cookie!
1. Prolouge

Title: Again?  
  
Author: Spiffy Da WonderSheep  
  
Disclaimer: Spoilers up to The Gift. Joss owns it, I just warp it to my own means for fun and no profit. I've read so many angsty-post-Gift fics, you people have infected me. I hate you all! Okay, maybe I don't really, but look at what you made me write!!! *runs away crying *. It's going to be irreverent and some other word that also means irreverent, so if you don't approve, well, better look somewhere else then.  
  
  
PROLOGUE  
  
"Again?" Power asked angrily.  
  
"Yes, again," Power replied.   
  
"Again what?" Power asked, walking in on the other two.  
  
"Power over there wants to send the Slayer back," Power accused, pointing its finger.  
  
"Why are you having such a problem with that, Power?" Power asked.   
  
"It's been done!"  
  
"So has seers, but I seem to remember a requisition for a new one coming from a certain Power recently."  
  
"How else are we supposed to communicate with that annoying vampire? His previous seer goes off and gets noble, I mean-Besides, we're not talking about myself, we're talking about sending that Slayer back. We're getting so--- clichéd!"  
  
"Oh, and virgin birth wasn't clichéd?" Power said airily, buffing its nails on its chest.  
  
"Hey, I wasn't paying attention to India, okay? That wasn't my gig!"   
  
"Power, Power, stop fighting," Power said placating.   
  
"Minor deity," Power muttered under its breath.  
  
"What did you call me?" Power asked, outraged.  
  
"Listen, you guys," Power said, physically placing itself between Power and Power. "Can't we all just get along?"  
  
They both looked at it oddly and answered, "NO!"  
  
"Fine then, let's agree to disagree and see how the mortals handle it. They've surprised us before, they might surprise us again." Power looked at the two of them pointedly. "Agree?"  
  
"I agree," said Power grudgingly. "So do I," said Power, not to be outdone.  
  
"Fine. Now, don't you two have something else you're supposed to be doing?"  
  
The Powers That Be dispersed to various parts of their domain, to meddle in mortal affairs and make sure the universe ran smoothly.  
  
  
  



	2. Part I

Title: Again?  
  
Author: Spiffy Da WonderSheep  
  
Disclaimer: Spoilers up to The Gift. Joss owns it, I just warp it to my own means for fun and no profit. I've read so many angsty-post-Gift fics, you people have infected me. I hate you all! Okay, maybe I don't really, but look at what you made me write!!! *runs away crying *. It's going to be irreverent and some other word that also means irreverent, so if you don't approve, well, better look somewhere else then.   
  
  
Part I  
  
"Nuh uh, Fred," the vampire said, grabbing his companion. "That's Gardenview Cemetery. You don't want to go in there, ever."  
  
"Why not, Johan? What do we have to fear from a fripping cemetery?"   
  
"That's where the Slayer was buried."  
  
"Slayer? That nasty 80s hair band?"  
  
Johan knocked Fred across the back of the head. "No, dummy! The Slayer. A girl whose entire existence is devoted to killing vampires like us! I swear, if you weren't my cousin and newly vamped to boot, I'd stake you myself."  
  
"Okay," Fred said, confused. "If she's dead, why are we afraid of her?"  
  
Johan spoke slowly, as if Fred was brain-injured. "Because she had friends who have now devoted their lives to killing guys like us. And they are forever tromping through this here graveyard, to honor her and dust anyone stupid enough to be caught here."  
  
"Kinda like you guys, eh?" A British accent asked them. The two vamps whirled around and imploded into dust.   
  
"Bloody hell, I hate it when that happens." Spike shook the dust (and several petals) off of the flowers he was carrying.   
  
"Buffy will understand," Dawn reassured him, taking the flowers from his hand. "It's not like she wasn't always covered in vamp dust, or demon goo, or some other icky substance."  
  
"That's why I'd rather not have her flowers all dusty. She dealt with that crap in life, why does she need to deal with it in--- afterlife."  
  
"A noble and appreciable sentiment," Xander said, from behind them.  
  
"AAAK!" Dawn said. Screetched, actually.  
  
"Gah! Don't sneak up on people like that!" Spike said, briefly flashing to vamp face.  
  
"Sorry." Xander was carrying flowers also, however his were of the more fancy and expensive variety. He was opening his mouth to comment when Dawn said, "I bought them."  
  
Xander recovered quickly. "And they are beautiful, but does your guardian know you're out this late, young lady?"  
  
"He sent us out, 'to check on things while I research'." Dawn said, doing a spot-on Giles imitation.  
  
"He wanted to get drunk without the Nibblet around," Spike informed him.  
  
"Again?"  
  
"Can I spend the night at your house?" Dawn asked.  
  
"Sure thing, Dawnie. Let's go see your sister and then I'll call An and warn her to hide the good chocolate." To Spike's raised eyebrow he said, "Shut up."  
  
"I'm not saying anything, mate."  
  
"You were implying." The three of them entered the cemetery, Dawn a ways ahead of the man and vampire. In the past month, the pilgrimage had become a codified ritual among the Scooby Gang: each of them would get some alone time with the monument, and the others would stay back at a respectful difference, so as not to overhear conversations or tearful confessions. Everyone always allowed Dawn to go first. Spike and Xander sat on a bench where they were out of earshot, but still had a good view of Dawn. "Is Giles' drinking starting to worry you?" Xander asked.  
  
Spike shrugged. "He's lost his reason for living. Gonna take him a while to find another."  
  
"I don't think he's going to find it at the bottom of a scotch bottle."  
  
"If he hasn't started sobering up in a month, then I'll tell you guys and we'll do something."  
  
"Okay. Need any help?"  
  
Spike laughed, or what passed for his laughter lately. It was a short, ugly, barking sound. "I've cleaned up vomit before. I can handle it."  
  
After this revelation, there was strained silence between them. Neither was comfortable with the fact that they had suddenly been put in charge of the Gang. Dawn stood up, wiping her eyes as she walked towards them. "You wanna go or should I?" asked Xander.  
  
"You go, and I'll watch Little Bit. Then you can take her home."  
  
"Okay." Dawn had arrived at the bench just then, and she hugged Xander for a long minute, before releasing him to go pay his respects. She sat on the bench and leaned into Spike's shoulder, breathing in the scent of leather and dust.   
  
"Anya said last week he kicked the tombstone and almost broke his foot," Dawn told Spike. "She didn't know till the next morning because he'd been sneaking out to come here."  
  
"Well, understandable reaction, I guess. Weren't you the one who told me anger is one of the steps in the grieving process?"   
  
"Yeah, but it's also one of the steps in the domestic violence cycle." The statement hung in the air.  
  
Spike swallowed. "Think he's hitting Anya?"  
  
"No. I just think we should watch him."  
  
"Okay." Spike added one more thing to his mental list of Things To Watch For In Various Scoobies. He added one more note to this list: write it down, it was getting too long to keep straight in his mind. Xander was on his way back to them, with a somber look on his face.   
  
"Ready, Dawnmeister?"  
  
"Yeah." Dawn got up, and turned to Spike. "I'm calling Giles' at sunrise, you'd better be there."  
  
Spike grinned at her. "I promise."  
  
"And you never break a promise to a lady," Dawn prompted him.  
  
"Yeah, what you said." Xander took Dawn's hand in his, and the two of them walked off together, leaving Spike with his thoughts and with her.  



	3. Part II

Title: Again?  
  
Author: Spiffy Da WonderSheep  
  
Disclaimer: Spoilers up to The Gift. Joss owns it, I just warp it to my own means for fun and no profit. I've read so many angsty-post-Gift fics, you people have infected me. I hate you all! Okay, maybe I don't really, but look at what you made me write!!! *runs away crying *. It's going to be irreverent and some other word that also means irreverent, so if you don't approve, well, better look somewhere else then. Many thanks to JAIT and Idoru for much-needed feedback and plot questions, and to JodithGrace for much needed spelling help!  
  
Part II  
  
Spike knelt in the grass, feeling the dew seep into his pants. This was his favorite time of the night, a time when he felt he could almost hear her voice.  
  
"Spike."  
  
Of course, he wouldn't be able to, that was just a writer's cliché.  
  
"Spike!"  
  
A bad one, at that. One he used to use all the time in those dark days when he was William the Bloody Awful.  
  
"SPIKE!" Something hit him in the chest, sending him sprawling onto the grass. His eyes flew open and he saw a ghost.  
  
He mentally kicked himself for using another tired cliché, even if it was only in his head. Although, it obviously was a ghost, since he could see through Buffy's angry form and read the inscription on her tombstone. The specter walked forward, planted a transparent but very solid foot on his abdomen, and crossed her arms over her chest . "B-Buffy?" He asked.  
  
"Who else would it be?"  
  
"You're-"  
  
"Let's cover the basics," she said, taking her foot off of him and helping him up. "One: I'm dead. Two: You're not going crazy. Well, crazy-er. Three: I'm not here for long, so you're going to have to shut up and listen."  
  
"Okay."  
  
"You promised me you'd take care of Dawn."  
  
"And I have!" Spike interrupted. "I even moved in with that bloody librarian again-"  
  
"Hello? Did no one just hear me tell you to shut up and listen?" He looked abashed, and she continued. "We're all proud of your mooching abilities, but it's not enough. Dawn's losing her support structure. Giles is drinking himself into an early grave, Willow is playing with dark magics, Tara doesn't know about it, Xander's feeling the strain of trying to build a new household when he's suddenly acquired a 14 year old daughter and Anya... well, let's just say Anya's spending all of her time at the Magic Shop and isn't spending any with Xander. The whole family's falling apart."  
  
It took a minute for the implications to set in. "The Powers sent you here to fix Xander's love life?"  
  
She gave him that familiar look, the 'I can't believe you just said that, I am so going to stake you now' look. "As goes Sunnydale, so goes the world. You guys have been slacking in the patrolling department, and all sorts of nasties have moved in. There's about three groups in town right now that are aiming to destroy the world."  
  
"Again?" Spike exclaimed.  
  
Buffy continued as if he hadn't spoken. "The Powers have decided that they need to appoint a new leader over here, and you're it."  
  
"Me? Why me?"  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"I'm just a vampire."  
  
"Yeah, so?"  
  
"Well," Spike waved his hands, trying to find the words. "Do I get any special-"  
  
"Nope. You work with what you've got. And if you do a good job, you'll get a reward."  
  
"What if I do a bad job?"  
  
"Then," Buffy said grimly, "The Powers promised me I'd get to be the one in charge of your punishment."  
  
"Ah. Right. Well then. Guess I have a job to do." He reached out, and was not at all surprised when his hand went through where her cheek appeared to be. He whispered, "I still love you, Slayer."  
  
She smiled at him, and he spun on his heels and left, so she wouldn't see the tears streaming down his face. Buffy watched him go, and when he was far enough away, she disappeared.  
Power looked up. "Where have you been, Power?"  
  
"Taking care of a little business with one of the big players." Power said flippantly, sweeping through the room and off into its private space. Power frowned a bit, then went back to what it was working on. Power was fairly certain Power was up to something, but without proof, Power could prove nothing. Power made a mental note to go snoop around Sunnydale when it had a free moment.  
  
  



	4. Part III

Title: Again?  
  
Author: Spiffy Da WonderSheep  
  
Disclaimer: Spoilers up to The Gift. Joss owns it, I just warp it to my own means for fun and no profit. I've read so many angsty-post-Gift fics, you people have infected me. I hate you all! Okay, maybe I don't really, but look at what you made me write!!! *runs away crying *. It's going to be irreverent and some other word that also means irreverent, so if you don't approve, well, better look somewhere else then. Many thanks to JAIT and Idoru for much-needed feedback and plot questions, and to JodithGrace for much needed spelling help!  
  
Part III  
  
Giles awakened to familiar sensations. Fuzzy mouth, pounding head, full body aches, light stabbing painfully through the eyelids, directly to his cerebrum... Yes, he had survived to another day. Dammitall.  
  
His hand reached out and blindly began searching the bedside table for the emergency bottle he'd taken to stashing there. A high pitch whine added new dimensions of pain to his usual hangover, and he actually opened one eye to aid in the search. What he saw made him close his eyes and groan in protest.   
  
The whine stopped, and Spike said, "Oh, you're awake. Good. Hurry up, we've got to be down at the shop in an hour. Want any food?"  
  
The mere mention of food made Giles' stomach heave. He put forth a Herculean effort and rolled over in bed, simultaneously pulling a pillow over his head.   
  
"Oh no you don't." Spike pulled the pillow off of his head and ripped all the blankets away. "Phew! These things reek. I'll be back in a minute with some broth and coffee, after I put these to wash. If you're not up then, I'm bringing the vacuum cleaner." The high-pitched whine Giles could now identify as Spike's whistling retreated down the stairs. He groaned again, and started trying to remember where he'd left his stakes and holy water.   
  
"And don't bother looking for either a weapon or more liquor, mate, I've thrown them all out." Spike's unbearably cheerful voice floated up the stairs, and Giles wondered if he could hang himself with a bed sheet. Then he remembered Spike took all the bed sheets, so he rolled out of bed and began crawling towards the bathroom, to vomit.  
  
  
Spike surveyed the group gathered around the table with something that felt suspiciously like pride. That is, until he looked at them closer. Giles was obviously the worst, bleary eyed and his hands were wrapped around a half full cup of coffee. It was half full because the shaking of his hands had caused him to spill the other half. His hair was uncombed and he had a week's worth of beard, but at least he'd bathed. After Spike came in and threw him in the tub with all his clothes on, and then turned the faucet on him.   
  
Xander looked like he was thirty years old. Spike had to hand it to him, since everything had happened, the guy had come through like a trooper. A trooper who didn't know what the hell he was doing, but still went bravely forward. The Witches were sitting next to each other, as always. Red looked blank, like she hadn't been sleeping well. Or like she was hiding something. As for Tara, well, she was always hard to get a read on. Dawn was sitting next to Tara, with her foot up on the chair next to her. She was picking at her shoe absentmindedly, a nervous habit Spike had noticed lately.   
  
Anya had been forced to sit down next only when Spike ripped the "open" sign into pieces and tacked up in its place a handwritten notice: "Closed for Family Emergency". He'd had to enforce this edict with a growl and a hint of vamp face, which had caused him slight pain in the forebrain, but had made her stop fiddling around.  
  
"Okay, guys, I called this meeting for a reason," Spike started, then stalled. He'd been trying to figure out how to go about telling them what had happened the previous night, but as he stood there with all their eyes on him, all his plans flew out the window. "Um, okay. Here's the deal. I had a visitation last night."  
  
"A what?" Anya asked.  
  
"A visitation. A spiritual event. A revelation, erm... something happened." Spike paused. "I saw Buffy."  
  
"Oh, great. Spike's gone crazy," Anya said, then corrected herself. "Crazy-er."  
  
"I am not going crazy, and Buffy told me so!" he retorted.  
  
"And you're going to believe your delusions?"  
  
"Anya, he might be telling the truth," Willow said. "I was reading some fascinating stuff on spiritual manifestations of departed persons the other day..."  
  
"But that only happens in extreme circumstances," Giles butted in, talking to his coffee.  
  
"Oh, yeah," Willow said, dejectedly.   
  
"And only to humans."  
  
"There's that too," Willow agreed.  
  
"Listen, I didn't get a size-6 boot print on my jacket last night from any delusion. She came and kicked my ass, and then sent me here to kick your asses into gear."   
  
"Why?" Dawn was the first one to ask.  
  
"Because. We've been neglecting our duties and now Sunnydale's about to become the hole into which the universe disappears."  
  
Everyone exchanged glances, and then the chorus began.   
  
"AGAIN?"  
  
"What, you think that just because one Slayer dies, the evil's going to stop? Come on guys, you know it doesn't work that way. The Powers That Be are counting on us to keep it from falling into the toilet. We're parts of the Big Plan, and we've got our sacred duties to perform. So I throw it out onto the table: Navek. What is it, and how do we stop it?"  
  
Spike held his breath. Metaphorically, of course. It sounded good inside his head, but would they believe it had come direct from the Powers...  
  
"Sounds Portuguese. Anya, do we still have a copy of the Livro De Cosias Malas Grandes?" Giles asked.  
  
"12.99, Arcane Knowledge section." Anya disappeared into the store and returned, reading, "A criatura grande de Navek pode somente ser derrotada com uma espada muito grande através do spleen."   
  
" 'The large Navek creature can only be killed with a very large sword through the spleen'," Willow translated.  
  
"I didn't know you spoke Portuguese," Tara said, and Willow blushed.  
  
"I--- picked it up here and there."  
  
"Okay, so we have pointy swords aplenty," Xander said. "But we need to know where to find it."  
  
"That's all this book says about them," Anya said.  
  
"Someone could always go pummel Willy the Snitch," Dawn added helpfully.  
  
"Yeah! I haven't had a good pummel in a long time... And how did you know about him?" Xander asked.  
  
"Really, Xander," Dawn said, turning away from the dangerous area of reference it back on him, "We don't need to hear about your love life."  
  
Spike let out the metaphorical breath and allowed himself a small grin as the banter flowed around him. It was a start.   
Once again, TBC (I know, I'm just evil).  
  
  



	5. Part IV

Part IV  
  
The argument had started as soon as Spike lifted up the manhole cover. "There is no way I am going down there," Xander informed him.  
  
"If you have another way for us to get to Willy's without myself getting a fatal suntan, I'm all ears."  
  
"Same way you got here. Backseat, under a blanket."  
  
Spike's hackles rose at his condescending tone of voice, but he had to admit it was a good idea. He slid the manhole cover back into place. "Sorry, mate, old habits die hard." Xander stopped and gave him a horrified look. "What?"  
  
"Did- did you just apologize to me?"  
  
"Yeah. I did. Don't be getting used to it now."  
  
Xander shook his head and went back into the shop for the blanket.  
  
The back alley door to Willy's bar was locked. The two men conferred with each other, and then on the count of three made a team effort and kicked it in. Another crash sounded a moment later from behind a closed door to their right, followed by several more, followed by a shouted, "Again?! I swear, these Rumae demons... We're closed you damn snarglburtfd..." The door flew open and they found themselves face to face with the proprietor. His eyes widened in recognition. "Oh, it's you. I swear on all that I hold holy, I don't know what's going on."  
  
"Now, why don't I believe you, Willy?" Xander asked, cracking his knuckles for dramatic effect. The wince that came afterwards didn't add much to the effect.  
  
"This time it's the truth! Listen, I know you were friends of the Slayer and all that, and some of that nobility may have rubbed off on you, but now she's gone and that means no one is going to be able to stop this thing. So if I were you and you were smart, I'd be packing my bags and leaving town as soon as possible." He turned around and hurried over to his desk, slammed the briefcase on top of it closed, picked it and the suitcase next to the desk up, and pushed past them out the door. Spike grabbed him and slammed him up against the wall. Willy's reply was, "Hey! Watch the jacket!"  
  
"Listen, mate, what's this Navek up to?"  
  
"Navek? He left town last week!" Willy said, puzzled. Then he started laughing. "Oh... Waitaminute, you guys don't know, do you? I bet you haven't even seen the portents! Ever since that blonde chick died, you guys haven't been able to find your own asses with both hands and a flashlight--"  
  
Spike chose that moment to punch Willy in the nose. As soon as Spike connected, his hands flew to his throbbing skull, and Xander followed up by burying his fist in Willy's solar plexus. The bartender dropped to the floor, curled in the foetal position, gasping for breath. "Watch your mouth," Xander growled.  
  
"I would," gasped Willy. "But my nose gets in the way."  
  
"Oh, no, this one is mine," Spike said, holding up a hand to restrain Xander. He pulled a Swiss Army Knife out of his back pocket, opened the largest blade, and held it besideWilly's nose. "Even if my head explodes, this will be worth it." He gritted his teeth and--  
  
"It was a figure of speech!" Willy squealed. "Listen, I'll tell you what I know, and that's damn little. There is some big dark evil coming through, and it's got every single nasty in this town pissing itself and running away. Leon's even stopped showing up, and he's been a regular at this bar since my grandfather opened it a hundred years ago."  
  
"Who the bloody hell is Leon?" Spike asked.  
  
"Leon, you know, bald, Krflylach demon, sits on the third stool from the left." Willy had maneuvered to an upright seated position, and painfully he inched his way up the wall until he was standing. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to run for my life."   
  
Spike cocked his head towards the door. "G'on. Git."   
  
Willy grabbed his cases and made for the door as Xander protested, "Hey! What did you do that for?"  
  
"Because he doesn't know anything."  
  
"Excuse me, I've been beating information out of Willy for five years. In those five years, he never coughed up the truth without large denomination bills changing hands."   
  
"Excuse me," Spike said, mimicking Xander's sarcastic tone. "But he wasn't lying."  
  
"How do you know?"  
  
"The man reeked so badly of fear I'm surprised even you didn't smell it." Spike put away his knife in his pocket. "Come on, we've got some research to do."  
  
"Wait a minute, who put you in charge here?" Spike sighed, and just looked at Xander. "Okay, well, you say that-- you say that you saw Buffy, but do we have something else to go on? Like, a notarized power of attorney?"  
  
"Do you want to argue, or do you want to find out how we can stop the world from ending?" Spike asked, impatient.  
  
"Can't I do both?"  
  
Spike just growled.  



	6. Part V

Part V  
  
"I just don't understand it," Willow said as they turned the corner. "We spent days trying to contact Buffy, and the person she decides to appear to is Spike?"  
  
Tara shrugged, holding the grocery bag tighter to her chest. "M-maybe the Powers didn't give her a choice of whom she could see."  
  
"But still... SPIKE?"   
  
"We don't know what he's been doing, he could have been spending his time trying to contact the spirit world. He's been spending most of his time at Giles' house and the graveyard, which are two pretty good places to try."  
  
"But it's Spike!"  
  
Tara tried again. "It could be some sort of prophecy."  
  
"Hmmm." Willow was not convinced as she opened the door of the Magic Box for Tara. "I just wish--"  
  
The two women stopped in their tracks and stared. The three large, grey demons inside the store stopped what they were doing (which was breaking things) and returned the favor. Anya waved weakly from where she was being dangled by the scruff of the neck. "Hey guys."  
  
Immediatley, Willow's eyes went black and she managed to get out three words of Latin before Anya said, "Wait! It's not what you think!"  
  
"It looks like you're being robbed," Tara said quietly.  
  
"No, no no no, Igor and his friends here are just discussing buisness."  
  
"And the fact that this business hasn't been paying its insurance." Igor had a very gravely voice, to match his face.   
  
"The rates of which we were, ah, just discussing. However, I think we've finally agreed and I am about to go get the money right now." Igor put Anya down and she scurried off into the back room. She was back fairly quickly, with a paper bag that she handed over to Igor. He hefted it, then grunted and left. His two friends exited with him.  
  
Willow waited until the door closed behind them to launch into Anya. "You're paying protection to the demons???"  
  
"What else am I supposed to do? Have them come in here and trash the place every day?" Anya retorted.  
  
"The Queen of Capitalisim is giving in to gangsters? I can't believe this. You just gave them MONEY, Anya. Does Giles know about this?"  
  
"And in so doing, kept them from destroying thousands of dollars worth of inventory. That's what businesspeople call a fair trade. I bet Giles would agree with me."  
  
"You mean he doesn't know about this?"  
  
"Why didn't you tell us?" Tara interrupted.  
  
"What could you guys do?"  
  
"Set up a protection spell at the very least. Destroy the demons at the most! Look at this mess!" Willow made an angry gesture at the destruction, and a ball of green fire shot out of her hand. It did not react well with some of the spilled compounds on the floor, and the three of them were busy for the next few minutes chasing down little sputtering purple fireballs that rolled willy-nilly about the store. It didn't even slow down their arguing.  
  
"Oh, like you could destroy a demon." Anya called from near the Arcane Knowledge section.  
  
"We've destroyed plenty of demons!" Willow retorted, catching a fireball just before it rolled under the Casting Powder table.   
  
Tara emerged from the back room where she had chased several of the fireballs with a fire extinguisher. She cornered the last three behind the main door and let them have it. This freed Anya to confront Willow head-on. "What was the last demon you killed?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"What is the last demon you killed, yourself?"   
  
"I don't remember! Sometime before Buffy died--" Willow realized she had uttered the top two words on the Unspeakable Words list. Uncomfortable silence fell on the shop like a sledgehammer.  
  
Finally, Willow managed to whisper, "I didn't mean---" but they never found out what she didn't mean, because at that moment the front door of the shop flew open and Spike ran in. He flung the blanket onto the floor, and stamped on it to make sure it wouldn't burst into flames. "Where's dinner?" he asked as Xander sauntered in after him.  
  
"Holy--- what happened in here?" Xander asked, surveying the damage.   
  
"Nothing!" Anya said, just as Willow said, "Demons."  
  
"Again?" Xander asked wearily.  
  
"Is this something we need to worry about right now, or can it wait until after the world ends?" Spike asked.  
  
"Will the world end by this time next week?" Anya asked.  
  
"Dunno." Spike answered.  
  
"Well, we've got till next week before this happens again," Anya said, kicking some glass shards with her toe.   
  
Willow just stared at her, then threw her hands up in exasperation and went into the back room. She emerged a moment later with various cleaning implements.   
  
"Hey! Look what I found!" Xander hefted the grocery bag proudly. "Food!" He took it to the research table and laid out the Chinese food containers as everyone else helped clean up.   
  
The phone rang, and Anya answered it without ceasing her dusting. "The Magic Box, fine purveyors of mystical arts supplies. How can I help you? Dawn? Dawn, you have to stop crying, I can't understand what you're saying..."  
  
Spike was at Anya's side in a flash, having vaulted over the cashier's counter. He took the phone from Anya and said, "Nibblet? What? Dawn, hang up and call 911. I'll be right there." He hung up and ran out the back door and into the sewer access before anyone could ask what was going on.  



	7. Part VI

Part VI  
  
Spike got some sun blisters on his face and hands as he ran across a sunny patch of Giles' courtyard. He threw open the door and screamed, "Dawn!"  
  
"Upstairs!" Came the reply, and Spike ran into Giles' bedroom. The room smelled of fresh alcohol and even fresher blood. Dawn was on the floor, sitting next to Giles' prone form, and crying. She had the phone up to her ear. "My friend just showed up. Yes, he's still breathing, but he won't wake up!"  
  
Sirens wailed in the distance. Spike noticed the blood was coming from a cut on Giles' scalp. Dawn was listening to the 911 operator speak. "He can't go outside, he's got a skin allergy to UV light. I'll go, here he is." Dawn handed him the phone and said, "I have to go show the ambulance where to go."   
  
Dawn took off out the door. " 'Ello?" Spike asked.  
  
"Hi, my name is Sasha and I'm the 911 operator. Who am I speaking to?"  
  
"Call me Spike."  
  
"Okay, Spike, you need to check Mr. Giles' breathing for me."   
  
Spike watched Giles' chest. The sirens sounded like they were just outside. "Yeah, he's breathing. Did Lil' Bit tell you he cracked his head on something?"  
  
"No," Sasha said. "Is there a lot of blood?"  
  
Spike swallowed involuntarily. "Yeah, but it looks like it's just a minor scalp lac. Bleeding's stopped."   
  
Two young men in jumpsuit uniforms rushed into the room. They were carrying a gurney between the two of them, and on the gurney was bags Spike suspected were full of medical equiptment. Xander and Anya were right behind them, but they stopped in the doorway. Spike jumped back as they fell to their work. "The paramedics are here," Spike informed Sasha.  
  
"Okay, Spike, I want you to hang up now and tell them what you just told me about his head."  
  
" 'Kay. Thanks." Spike put the reciever back on the hook. "Listen, mates, Sasha told me to tell you he's got a cut on his head from when he fell."  
  
"Thanks," The nearer one said as he started an IV in Giles' arm. "Do you know how much he's had to drink?"  
  
"Well," Spike said, surveying the room. "Probably that entire bottle of Jack Daniels over there. I cleaned this room this morning."  
  
"He and Dawn just left the shop two hours ago," Anya said, her voice shaking.  
  
The nearer one whistled, a long, low sound. The farther one said, "Jeez," and continued what he was doing. They quickly rolled him onto a backboard and lifted him onto the gurney, then were proceeded down the stairs by Anya and Xander. Spike followed the little parade, and found Dawn sitting on the couch between Willow and Tara. One of the paramedics asked, "Who's riding in the rig?"   
  
"I am," Dawn said. "Me too," said Tara.  
  
"The rest of us will follow in the car," Xander said.   
  
The paramedics left with Giles and their passengers. Xander picked the throw decorating the back of the couch up and threw it at Spike. "Let's roll."  
  
"No."  
  
"What do you mean no?" Willow said angrily.  
  
"Well, first of all," Spike said, and then stuck his fingers through the very decorative spaces in the crocheted blanket. "And secondly, we've got something more important to figure out. Namely, how to stop the end of the world."  
  
"Okay, that's it," Willow declared. "You are not in charge around here, Spike."  
  
"Why shouldn't Spike be in charge?" Anya asked. "He's the only one who's been taking any initiative around here."  
  
"Hey! What about me?" Xander protested.  
  
"Why aren't I the leader? Why wasn't I visited?" Willow asked.  
  
"Xander, I love you and you know that I've proved it many a time, but you're not a leader."  
  
"Once again, Anya opens her mouth and gives her man loving support," Xander said.  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
"I have leadership skills!" Willow added. "I could lead."   
  
"Would everyone PLEASE SHUT THEIR TRAPS?!?!" Spike yelled. "Willow, since you are so good with magic, would you please read a couple of portents to give us some idea of what we're up against? Xander, since you are so good at research, would you please look through some of the prophecy books Giles has lying about to see if there's something in there? Anya, since you are such a great supplier, would you help these two by getting them things they might need from the shop?"   
  
The three of them nodded warily. Spike found a thicker blanket wrapped around a sword in the weapons chest by the door. He wrapped it carefully around himself as he continued, "I'm more than willing to let you guys elect a new capitan of this lifeboat as soon as this universe is safe, but until then I'd appreciate it if you would at least give me a chance." He disappeared out the door and down into the sewer.  
  



	8. Part VII

Disclaimer: All the usual, plus Alcoholics Anonymous 12 Questions available online at http://www.aa.org/english/E_Pamphlets/P-3_d1.html  
  
Part VII  
  
"Got you a present," Spike said, throwing a pamphlet at Giles.   
  
"G'way." Giles turned his head away. He was hardwired to the bed in seven different places, and there was dried, black vomit on his chin. His teeth were a horrid grey color, a side effect of the activated charcoal they'd forced down his throat to keep the alcohol from further poisoning him.  
  
"Here, I'll help you with it. It's a fun little quiz." Spike picked it up and settled himself in the visitor's chair. " 'Have you ever decided to stop drinking for a week or so, but only lasted for a couple of days?' Hmm, no, you're pretty consistently drinking all the time."  
  
Giles still kept his head turned away. Spike continued, " 'Do you wish people would mind their own business about your drinking-- stop telling you what to do?' "  
  
"YES!" Giles tried for forceful, but it came out whiny and croaky.   
  
"Okay, that's a 'yes'." Spike duly noted it and continued. " 'Have you ever switched from one kind of drink to another in the hope that this would keep you from getting drunk?' Hmm, I'm guessing no, you tend to want to get drunk fast. 'Have you had to have an eye-opener upon awakening during the past year?' That's a big yes. 'Do you envy people who can drink without getting into trouble?' Well, do you?"  
There was no answer from the bed, so Spike moved on. " 'Have you had problems connected with drinking during the past year?' " He looked around the hospital room. "Yes. 'Has your drinking caused trouble at home?' Well, the Social Services worker outside who is talking with Dawn sure thinks so."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Yeah, she's the one who gave me this little quiz. Well, I'd ask you the next five questions, but since you already answered yes to four of them, that means you've got a problem with alcohol. Which means that the nice Social Services man outside is prepared to take Dawn away from you and put her in foster care. I just spoke to him. He said if you get help for your drinking, you can keep the Little Bit. There's an AA meeting starting in an hour downstairs, he 'highly suggests' that you attend." Spike stood up and leaned over Giles, turning his face so he had to look him in the eye. "She's all we have left of Buffy, and I swear, if you lose her too, I will find a way to kill you. We need you now, Rupert, and we can't use you if you're hiding inside a bottle."  
  
Giles' eyes closed, and large tears started falling. Spike left the room and found his way back to the waiting area, where Dawn, Tara, and Mr. Gray the Social Services man were sitting. "Give him a few minutes before you go in there," Spike said to the man. He nodded and vanished down the hallway. Spike turned towards Dawn, whose eyes were still red. "You okay, Nibblet?"  
  
She nodded.   
  
"Tara, can you take care of her? I need to get back to the house."  
  
"Of course."  
  
"I'll send Xander over with the car to pick you guys up." Spike headed for the elevator, and pressed the down button.  
  
***  
  
Power and Power were waiting in the antechamber when Mr. Gray walked in the door. "Nice look,"   
  
Power said smugly. "Civil Servant Chic?"  
  
The form of Mr. Gray shimmered and disappeared, to be replaced by Power. "Just taking a look around down there," It said cautiously.  
  
"Power here has brought some rather serious accusations against you," Power said. "Power thinks you're keeping something from us."  
  
"Power should know," Power retorted, "since Power's doing everything it can to keep myself from finding out what exactly it is doing."  
  
"Slander!" Power exclaimed.  
  
"Setting up the roadblock to divert the Watcher past the liquor store on his drive home was quite brilliant," Power said, shaking its finger. "You know that kind of thing isn't allowed. He's got work to do."  
  
"Ah, excuse myself, but I believe he's an Ex-Watcher, thereby putting him out of your domain." Power said, swelling its chest. Then it added, "Not that I had anything to do with it."  
  
"I think I remembering both of you agreeing to leave these people alone," Power said. There was no hint of malice or threat in its tone, but the other two backed off immediatley. "If I catch either of you in a nanoparsec of Sunnydale, I will have to ally myself with the other Power, understand?"  
  
The two Powers nodded.  
  
"Good. I will now consider the matter settled," Power said, and spun on its heel and left.  
  
Power stuck its tounge out at Power.  
  
"Oh, grow up," Power said, exasperated.  
  



	9. Part VIII

Part VIII  
  
"What have you got for me?" Spike asked as he came in the door.   
  
"Well, whatever it is, it's going down tonight. I think." Willow said. She was seated in the middle of the kitchen table, surrounded by various sacred and odiferous objects.  
  
Spike sighed. "Can you give me a probability?"  
  
"80 percent. Give or take."  
  
He turned to Xander. "How goes the research front?"  
  
"Well, I've narrowed it down to about ten possibilities, all in languages I don't read." Xander picked one of the opened books off of the coffeetable, and handed it to Spike. "This looks like it could have some connection--"  
  
Spike looked at it, and said, "It's a bloody recipe for chocolate cake in transliterated Mayan."  
  
"Okay, once again, language I don't speak." Xander said angrily.  
  
"Sorry, mate, not your fault. Can you run down to the hospital and pick up the Nibblet and Tara? And give Giles a few bucks for bus fare. I'll make sure he pays you back."  
  
"Finally! Something I can do!" Xander stormed out.   
  
"Cookies!" Anya said, coming out of the kitchen. She went to put the plate down on the coffeetable, noticed she was going to put it on a book, and picked up the book in her other hand to move it. "Hey, what year is it in the Chinese calendar?"  
  
"Um, I'm not sure, let me look in the encyclopedia." Willow found the book in question, and in a minute of reading said, "4699."  
  
"All righty then." Anya put the cookies down, brought the book to Spike. "See that?"  
  
"Sorry love, I don't read Chinese."  
  
"Obviously, since this is Ancient Mandarin. Nevermind, it says, loosely translated, 'In the Town of the Sun, in the 4699th year, Year of the Snake, at the sound of the first bell, a Kantok will mate with a Farwerk, and all Hell will break loose.' Hmm, that's new. Don't these things usually happen at midnight, not one a.m.?"  
  
Spike sighed. "Again? I mean, the first few times, it was kinda fun, but really, by now it's practically a tired, recycled plot."  
  
"Hey, don't blame me," Anya said. "I just read the prophecy. Oh, by the way, to stop the mating, we need to make someone a Vessel of Holy Truth, and to do that, we need a Orb of Reltetsoh and a Ptah Chalice. I've got a Ptah Chalice in the shop, but I don't know where to get anything as powerful as an Orb of Reltetsoh."  
  
"I have one at home."  
  
Anya turned to Willow. "What are you doing with an Orb of Reltetsoh?"  
  
"Spells."  
  
"What kind of spells?" Anya pressed.  
  
"Just... Spells." Willow turned red.   
  
"If Willow's been playing with dark magic, and I'm not accusing, we'll argue about that later," Spike said tiredly. "Let's all meet at the shop in an hour. I'll leave a note for Xander and Giles."  
  
"I drove over in my mom's car, why don't we all pile in, and we'll swing by the dorm on our way. It's a station wagon, Spike, plenty of room to hide under a blanket."   
  
"Sounds like a much better plan," Spike conceeded.  



	10. Part IX

Title: Again?  
  
Author: Spiffy Da WonderSheep  
  
Disclaimer: No naked Spikes were harmed during the writing of this fic.   
  
Part IX  
  
There was a very good reason why Spike was sitting on a table, naked except for a strategically placed Orb of Reltetsoh, holding still while a vile-smelling mixture of goddess-knows-what was poured over his head by the Little Bit and the Witches. The very good reason was, he won the coin toss. Anya was chanting in Ancient Mandarin, and Xander was standing nearby, scowling.   
  
The chanting stopped. "Feel like a Vessel of Holy Truth yet?" Anya asked him.  
  
"I'm feeling cold and smelly and sticky, is what I'm feeling," Spike gritted his teeth and gathered the ceremonial robe tighter. "Am I done?"  
  
"I think so. I guess we'll find out." Anya closed the book with a snap and turned her back. Everyone else followed her cue, and Spike leapt off of the table, running for the workout room, still holding the Orb of Reltetsoh in front of himself. When he got the door closed, the Orb, which was insanely heavy for an ugly piece of bric-a-brac (it wasn't even orb shaped), decided it was time to slip out of his hands and fall on his foot. After doing a lovely nude interpretive dance around the room to express exactly how much pain it caused him, he got dressed and walked back into the store proper.  
  
He stopped a microsecond before he ran into Igor's back.  
  
"What the bloody hell are you doing here?"   
  
Igor turned around and regarded the vampire. "We have returned to discuss back payments on the insurance policy."  
  
"I cannot BELIEVE you guys," Anya said angrily. Spike saw she was once again dangling by the scruff of the neck from one of Igor's cronies' claws. Xander was resting rather uncomfortably under a broken bookshelf. The other three girls were being guarded by the other crony. "I want to get this down in writing this time."  
  
"That will not be possible," Igor stated.  
  
"What do you mean, 'not possible?' " Anya retorted.   
  
Red had been trying to catch his attention since he entered the room, not like waving her hands around or anything, but she'd been turning her eyes different colors. It was the neon pink that finally got his attention. He looked at her, she looked down. His eyes noticed the broad axe right by her foot. Spike grinned. "All right, boys, you're going to be negotiating with me now..."   
  
He put his hand out, the axe flew into it, and the door of the shop opened, revealing Giles. Giles took one look at the scene and said, "Igor, what in God's name are you doing here?"  
  
"Ripper? Ripper! How the heck are you?" He went over and they embraced in that manly, back-slapping way of good friends.  
  
"I've been better. How long has it been?"  
  
"About a decade, I think. At the conjuring in Thebes. What are you doing in California?"  
  
"I hate to break up this little reunion," Anya said, "But I'd like to be on the floor again, if it's not too much trouble."  
  
"Oh, oh yeah, sorry about that," Igor said, and the crony holding Anya put her down. She rushed over to where Xander was lying and helped him push the bookshelf off of himself and stand up. Both of the cronies turned into puddles and slid over to be absorbed by Igor.   
  
"I own this store," Giles said.  
  
"No, really? Aw, man, I owe you some money then." It looked like Igor reached directly into his chest and pulled out a plain leather wallet. "Here's the grand I extorted from the girl over there, and here's a bit more to cover the damages."  
  
Giles had a shocked look on his face. "You-extorted money from Anya?"  
  
"Yeah, the Big Boss has a new gig, getting cash from dark practitioners. Got some super-duper vibes from this place lately. Lemme tell you, Ripper, that sales girl of yours, she's a tough one. I'm threatening her, and not once dose she pull out a destructo-spell, even though the trace emanations are all over this place for that and some other big nasties, I tell you what."  
  
"That's because I told you, I don't do magic anymore!" Anya insisted.   
  
"Yeah, I'm about to believe you, if it's true the Ripper here's your boss. Anyway, I finally convinced her when I threatened that shiny shelf" He gestured to the shelf over the cashier's counter labeled: 'Please ask for assistance - Very Expensive Items'. "With that thingamajimmie over there." He gestured to the troll hammer, resting in the remains of a glass case.   
  
Giles followed the whole explanation, then said, "You extorted money from ANYA?"  
  
"Yeah, bro, but I gave it back, so all is now good." Igor patted Giles on the head. A beeping noise sounded from somewhere inside of Igor's chest. "Aw, dangit, the Boss is paging me again. I'll call you later, we'll talk, okay?"  
  
"Yeah, sure." Giles said, and waved as his friend disappeared past Spike to exit out the back. "He extorted money from Anya?"  
  
"Can we please stop bringing that up?" Anya asked.  
  
"But-"  
  
"Giles, we found out what's going down tonight." Spike said before he could finish.  
  
"The Kantok's mating with a Farwerk, and if we don't stop it by one a.m., the Hellmouth opens." Willow said.  
  
"Again?"  
  
"Pay up!" Willow said. Everyone grumbled and reached into their pockets to pile dollar bills into her hand.   
  
"So I am assuming you have formulated a plan, correct?" Giles said.  
  
"Yep. You're looking at a Vessel of Holy Truth," Spike informed him.  
  
"You're kidding me. Where did you get a Orb of Reltetsoh?"   
  
"Willow brought it from home," Xander said.  
  
"You didn't tell me that," Tara said.  
  
"Willow, what were you doing with such an evil object in your house?" Giles' face did a fair imitation of a tomato with a sunburn.  
  
"I-I was using it as a footstool?"  
  
"What else have you been playing with?"  
  
"Not m-much," Willow said.  
  
Tara was looking at Willow oddly. "You're lying!" she said, more shocked and surprised than anything.  
  
"Tara, I-" Willow reached out to her girlfriend, but Tara pulled away.   
  
"You've been lying to me for weeks. How could you do this to me?"  
  
"I didn't mean to lie to you!" Willow said, tears forming in her eyes.  
  
"You didn't tell me you were studying dark magic! That's dangerous! You know how dangerous it is!"  
  
"I was just trying to help!"  
  
Realization dawned in Tara's eyes. "You were trying to bring Buffy back. You would risk your own destruction for her?"  
  
"Tara! No, it's not like that!" Willow grabbed her hands, tried to pull Tara close to her. Tara kept her at arm's length. "We needed Buffy back, everything was falling apart. I'd done so many other spells, I was sure I could help! We needed help!"  
  
"You were willing to give me up for her." It wasn't a question.  
  
"I, erm, training room..." Giles gestured with his head and harrumphed! In that uncomfortable British way. Xander, Dawn, and Anya followed him, leaving the two young women alone in the shop.   
  
"No! Tara, no!" Willow protested, but Tara ripped her hands away.  
  
"Yes! Willow, yes! You know the consequences of dark magic! Barring if the Registry caught you, if you messed up the spell or were off on your chanting, you could die or worse!"  
  
"Tara, I love you," Willow whispered.  
  
"No. No, I don't think you do." Tara now had tears in her eyes, and she was backing towards the door to the street.   
  
"Tara, please don't..."  
  
The door shut behind Tara, and Willow fell to the floor, crying.  



	11. Part X

Title: Again?  
  
Author: Spiffy Da WonderSheep  
  
Disclaimer: Do not start an exercise program without the consent of a physician... erm, you know what I mean.  
  
Part X  
  
Anya, Xander, Giles, Dawn, and Spike stood around the training room, an uncomfortable silence surrounding them.  
  
"Right," Spike said after a minute that lasted a century. "Well, we got the Vessel, now we just have to wait."  
  
"Erm, exactly what did the prophecy say?" Giles asked.  
  
Anya closed her eyes and recited, " 'In the Town of the Sun, in the 4699th year, the Year of the Snake, at the sound of the first bell, a Kantok will mate with a Farwerk, and all Hell will break loose.' "   
  
"Hmmm." Giles took his glasses off and cleaned them with his shirttail. "A Kantok and a Farwerk are the names for the male and female forms of the Snirchot demon."  
  
"So there's a lot of them out there? How am I supposed to know which one to kill?" Spike asked.  
  
"I was fairly certain they were all extinct," Giles mused, not having heard Spike's question.  
  
"So you're saying there aren't many of them?" Spike asked again.  
  
"That slayer in the 18th century, she made it a life mission to take them out... There haven't been many sightings since..."  
  
Spike grabbed Giles' shoulders and shook him brusquely. "How do I find them, and how do I kill them?"  
  
"Oh. Well." Giles blinked a lot. "They like abandoned buildings, especially ones that have been burned, because they eat charcoal. Um, they only mate once a century."  
  
"What are the odds that tonight's the night for love?" Xander quipped.  
  
Everyone ignored him as Giles continued. "I believe they can only be killed by silver thrice blessed, or a Vessel of-"  
  
"Holy Truth." everyone finished his sentence for him.   
  
Giles took his glasses off and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Yes. That."  
  
"So, now all we have to do is figure out what building these beasties are hiding in, and wait till one a.m. Sounds easy."  
  
"Too easy. Isn't that what you're supposed to say?" Anya asked when everyone turned around to look at her.  
  
"You know, I think there's only one burnt-out building in Sunnydale right now," Xander said. "With the real estate market the way it has been, usually damage is cleared up tout suite, but this is government property-"  
  
"You don't mean Sunnydale High?" Giles asked incredulously.  
  
Xander shrugged. "It would make sense. If a Hellmouth was going to be opened by an act of carnal knowledge, wouldn't it make sense if the act was committed, oh, say, on top of the Hellmouth."  
  
"That's new and kinky," Anya said.   
  
"Let's not talk about that now, An."  
  
Everyone else shuddered.   
  
"So, now we wait," Spike said.   
  
The door from the shop opened, and all five of them jumped. Willow regarded them all with calm, red-rimmed eyes. "She's gone," she said.  
  
* * * *  
  
Power knocked on Power's private door for the third time. It was starting to get a little peeved, and it was certain that it now had proof that Power was meddling in Sunnydale. How else would a destined love like that of the two Witches break up so quickly? Power knocked again. "Power! I need to talk to you!"  
  
"Power's not in there," Power said. "But that's okay, you and I can discuss the Witches."  
  
"Yeah, we can," Power said, turning, fists balled up. "Why did you break them up?"  
  
"Oh, you can't play that game with myself, Power. This has your fingerprints all over it. You know I had big plans for these two when I had them meet."  
  
"And you know even though I hate all this lovey-dovey softhearted crap you're into, I had big plans for them too. Plans which you know can only be fulfilled if they stay together and continue to study magic!"   
  
"There's traces of one of us down there at that juncture!" Power insisted.   
  
"You don't think-" Power said.  
  
Power's eyes widened as comprehension dawned, then exclaimed, "Again?"  
  
"It's just the sort of thing---"  
  
"I know!" Power growled.  
  
"That's it." Power said. "The kid gloves are coming off."  
  



End file.
